


The “What Happens in Vegas” Job

by DinerGuy



Series: The Five Crossroads Jobs [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Leverage
Genre: Also featuring an appearance by a character you might know, Crossover, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Series, Short, The two times Lance Hunter met Leverage team members and lived to tell about it, and the three times he almost didnt, but does not have enough of a cameo to warrant tagging his fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time Lance Hunter learned that getting involved can be dangerous to one’s health</p>
            </blockquote>





	The “What Happens in Vegas” Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truthtakestime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthtakestime/gifts).



> All characters within belong to their respective creators (except for the random original characters that I invented). No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from anything you read here.
> 
> Betaed by the awesome DQ!

“Ah, Vegas.” Hunter grinned to himself as he stepped out of the hotel into the busy, over-lit bustle of the evening. The sun had set, but the party was just getting started - at least in Hunter’s case. He had plenty of cash and no real plans on what to do with it; he figured he would just go with the flow, maybe find a pretty face or two to keep him company throughout the night. After all, he was here to party, and so that was what he was going to do. He strolled down the sidewalk, taking in the garish billboards and bright lights that advertised almost anything he could possibly want. There were so many pedestrians crowding the sidewalks, amidst all of the street performers and vendors that Hunter found it very easy to blend in. This place would be the perfect place to run a job; he could think of only a few other places where it would be so simple to follow someone or evade notice himself.  
  
There were plenty of alleyways along his route, and he couldn’t help but notice their dimness as opposed to the main street. He supposed this was due to the fact that the surrounding buildings were so tall that they managed to block out most of the city’s lights from reaching very far inside. Each of them were occupied, some by tourists looking for a place to continue their parties, homeless citizens, or workers taking a smoke break. There was also a chance that some of them were companions for hire, judging from their appearance and demeanor, but Hunter was not about to judge. He grinned to himself as he thought of how one of the deserted alleys would make a great place to pull someone aside; although there were many pedestrians passing by, no one besides Hunter seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening anywhere around them. _‘That’s what makes them such good targets for pickpockets,’_ Hunter thought with a shake of his head.  
  
However, as he passed one alley in particular, something made him pause and take a closer look. He did a double-take and moved closer to listen in, hoping his imagination was just running away with him. There was a part of his brain that argued he should just continue on his way and enjoy his night like he had planned, but the part that wanted to get a handle on the situation won out and he edged forward until he was right at the entrance to the alley.  
  
There was a group of three men with their backs to the street. One was shorter and stockier than the others, but they all looked like they had quite a bit of muscle on them. They were dressed well in suits, but their wardrobes were in no way tailored - probably wanting to look like they belonged to a better crowd than they actually did. All three had threatening postures, and their attentions were directed at something - or someone - beyond them and out of sight to Hunter. He almost walked away right then and there, but then the tallest of the three spoke up.  
  
“You’re going to live just long enough to regret what you did in there,” the man growled, and the sound of a fist smacking flesh reached Hunter’s ears, along with a pained grunt.  
  
Hunter sighed. _‘I’m going to regret this,’_ he thought, but he spoke up anyway. “Hey, boys, what’s up?”  
  
As one, they whirled to face him. It was as if he had stepped into some sort of comedy routine or movie; the looks on the men’s faces would have been humorous if, you know, they weren’t aimed at _him_.  
  
“What is it to you?” the short one snarled. His voice was hoarse and raspy, as if he had been punched in the throat once too many times in the course of his lifetime. He put a fist threateningly in the palm of his other hand and massaged his knuckles.  
  
Hunter shrugged. “Well, I just was thinking this looked like a party just like every other alley here seems to have going on. You boys looked like you might need some company.”  
  
“Well we do not.” The short man was talking again. Apparently his friends were happy to let him do the talking for all three of them, for they just nodded in agreement. “So I would suggest you should leave.”  
  
Just then, from beyond the trio, came another voice. “Aw, c’mon, fellas. I think a party’s a great idea! I’m sure we can make up for the lack of decor…” The voice trailed off in a high pitch as the middle of the three goons turned back to give whoever was there a glare. “Or, you know, we could just go back to what we were doing before. But of course, I’m partial to the first option.”  
  
With a sigh, Hunter stepped forward. “You know, I think we can come to an understanding here. But it is a little late, so why don’t we just agree to continue this in the morning, eh? We all go back to our hotels… or whatever holes in the ground we’re staying in, and then we can meet up again once we’ve slept on it.”  
  
Their expressions told him what they thought of that idea. Hunter sighed. It looked like he’d have to do things the hard way. Thankfully he had a map of the city in his head, and he knew this alley emptied out into another street that ran on the other side of the two casinos. Or at least, he was pretty sure he was remembering correctly. Hopefully he was right.  
  
Without any warning, he rushed forward and slipped through the space between the short spokesman and one of the other goons. He came out on the other side of them in a flash and spotted a young man lying on the concrete. Apparently the man had been sent sprawling - by the punch Hunter had heard when he arrived, judging from the swelling on the man’s dark cheek - and hadn’t been brave enough to get back up. The young man looked surprised to see Hunter, but there was no time for introductions. Hunter simply grabbed his hand and continued forward down the alley. The motion pulled the man to his feet and he stumbled after Hunter, finally finding his footing. When he did, he was able to keep pace with Hunter quite well. Hunter supposed that was due to his flight instincts finally kicking in.  
  
“Hey, uh, where we goin’, man?” Hunter’s new friend sounded none too sure about their current direction. “Some of these alleys are dead ends, man.”  
  
Hunter didn’t pause in his forward motion as he shot a quick sideways glance to his right. “Well, if I remember things correctly, this one lets out on a street on the other side. Where we go from there… well, we’ll just figure that one out as we go. I’m Hunter, by the way,” he offered.  
  
“Alec Hardison,” came the strained response. Apparently Hardison wasn’t one for exercising much, based on the way he was already starting to perspire.  
  
Shaking his head, Hunter looked back ahead just as they arrived at the end of the alley. He grinned widely. “Told you so.” He glanced either way on the street, then back over his shoulder. The three goons were closing in on them, so Hunter quickly chose a direction and sprinted off, dragging Hardison behind him as he went.  
  
Thankfully Hunter’s experience in missions around the globe had given him plenty of experience in losing pursuers, although he generally just had to get himself out of these situations. Only once had he needed to execute an evasive escape while toting a civilian with him - except that time, the civilian had been in much better shape, they had been in Venice, and they had been able to commandeer the last boat at the dock, thus making a clean getaway. Pretty much everything was different this time around. This guy didn’t look like an amateur boxer turned priest either.  
  
Hunter took the first right, then a left, then another left, then a right, weaving in and out of the tourists on the sidewalk. The crowds both helped and hindered their escape; while it was easier to hide in a large group of people, their progress was also impeded by the sheer number of people in their way.  
  
“So what did you do to those guys anyway?” he asked Hardison. “If I’m risking my neck for you like this, I expect it to be for something important, not like, they’re your bookies or something.”  
  
“No, no, man, nothing like that,” Hardison replied. “I just, uh, got the upper hand in a poker game and they got touchy about it.”  
  
Hunter took the next left turn, noting with satisfaction that the crosswalk was just signaling go up ahead. He hurried through the crosswalk with a throng of other pedestrians, then continued down the street. “Oh really? To the tune of how much, may I ask? Because that didn’t look like a ‘you beat us once and we suddenly hate you’ confrontation. Though I suppose some people really are just sore losers,” he added as an afterthought.  
  
“Well…” Hardison trailed off.  
  
“Well?”  
  
“We might have been playing for a while. And it might have been more than just a few hundred dollars.”  
  
Hunter sighed deeply as he paused to look around. He risked a quick look over his shoulder and was relieved not to see their pursuers just yet. He wasn’t about to assume they had completely lost the men yet; it was very possible the trio was just around the corner. Hunter glanced at the shops along the street and was happy to see a small clothing store just ahead on the other side of the street. Unfortunately they were not near a crosswalk, but he chanced it anyway. He took the most direct path he could find, ignoring the honking of car horns in favor of reaching the far curb.  
  
“Man, this is worse than Moonview Highway,” Hardison was objecting as he was pulled along behind Hunter, “‘cause this is real life. Shoot, and I definitely don’t bounce back like a dang Toad.”  
  
He had no idea what the other man was talking about, so Hunter just ignored him. They ducked inside the shop, and Hunter nodded a greeting at the middle-aged woman behind the counter.  
  
The clothing shop was about the size of a small service station, with shelves along the walls stacked with hats in dozens of styles and colors. There were sunglasses, souvenir-style t-shirts and sweatshirts, and much more. Moving toward the far rack of clothes, Hunter grabbed a gray sweatshirt with the phrase ‘I Luv Vegas’ in large blue letters and held it up in front of Hardison.  
  
“This looks like your size,” he said. “Here, take it.” He handed the item off to the other man and turned back to grab a similar black shirt in a smaller size. This one featured an image of the state of Nevada with a giant star marking the location of Las Vegas. Then he turned towards the row of baseball caps stacked on top of a nearby shelf. He grabbed the first two, which were both black with white letter ‘V’s, and then snagged two pairs of sunglasses. He headed for the register and dumped everything on the counter. “How much?” he asked the woman.  
  
“Uhhh, let me see…” The woman apparently needed an extra dose or two of caffeine in her life, Hunter observed, because she couldn’t have moved more slowly if she had tried. She was smacking her gum as she reached for the tag of the first shirt.  
  
Hunter looked out the window at the front of the store, noting their pursuers were not yet in sight, but highly aware they could show up at any moment. If they were thinking clearly - which wasn’t necessarily a guarantee - they would suspect a clothing store stop. And with the large windows on the shopfront, it wouldn’t be hard to miss the only two customers in the store. “You know what?” He dug in his pocket and came up with a hundred dollar bill. Tossing it on the counter, he grabbed the merchandise up in his arms. “Do you have a back door around here?”  
  
Less than three minutes later, Hunter deposited the tags from their new shirts in one of the trash cans in the alley and pulled down the brim of his cap. Next to him, Hardison was inspecting his own shirt disdainfully.  
  
“Man, you couldn’t have picked something more stylish?” he was asking.  
  
Hunter glared at him. “We’re tourists. ‘Stylish’ is not in our vocabulary. And where’s your gratitude? I’m saving your skin, mate.”  
  
“And I appreciate that,” Hardison assured him.  
  
“Good. Let’s go. And put your hat on the right way,” Hunter added, looking pointedly at the cap that his charge had donned backwards. “It can’t hide your face that way.”  
  
They started off again, still at a fast pace but not quite as clipped as they had been going moments before. Hunter took them through the front door of a random casino on the next two streets, exiting the side doors of the establishments and continuing on their way. They were held up for a few moments in the middle of one side road by a large crowd that had gathered around a man on the sidewalk. He was wearing a green polo shirt and his short brown hair was spiked up in a stylishly messy way.  
  
“Street psychics,” Hunter shook his head in disgust as he pushed past the crowd, eyeing the way the man was dramatically reading a woman’s palm. “Con men, all of them.”  
  
“Aw, I think it’s kinda fun,” Hardison commented. “The psychic act thing,” he amended as Hunter glanced at him. “Although conning people isn’t the worst thing in the world,” he added a moment later. “By the way, all this running is wearing me out. Can we stop for hamburgers or something?”  
  
Hunter sighed. It was going to be a long night. The sooner he dropped his charge off at the hotel - which thankfully turned out not to be the same casino where Hardison had cleaned out the goons’ pockets - the better. Until then, it was going to be a very long night.


End file.
